


The Princess and the Witch

by greenieboy



Category: 9 to 5 the Musical - Parton/Resnick
Genre: F/F, Princess and the Frog AU, violet is a frog, witch and the frog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenieboy/pseuds/greenieboy
Summary: Princess and the Frog au, but Judy is a witch.(formerly known as Break the Spell)
Relationships: Judy Bernly/Violet Newstead
Comments: 15
Kudos: 14





	1. part i

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha, i'm baby so i'm posting this early. expect regular updates.

Judy gasped at the state of her garden, tears brimming in her eyes. Her fingers traveled from the flowers with snapped or bent stems to the trampled rosemary bush. The entire garden was in such disarray, and her vegetables were bruised and burst open! Judy couldn’t believe her eyes. What on earth had happened last night? This certainly wasn’t the work of any animal she was used to in these woods. It looked as if someone had _ stepped _ in her basil! There was no hope of fixing this naturally.

“Goodness,” Judy choked, lowering herself to her knees. This kind of damage would require a fair amount of her magic to repair the harm done. There was not a single plant in her garden untouched. Judy was on the verge of sobbing when she saw her berry bushes; not even her strawberries had been spared from this rampage. She would have to salvage what she could. She could make a pie, or a few new bottles of jam. She was down to only one and a half jars left. Still, this was not the best way to be confronted with her lack of jam.

She used her apron, scooping handfuls of berries into the valley of fabric with shaking fingers. She wiped her eyes, trying to figure out a plan for what to do with her devastated garden. Breathing heavily, she decided she would gather the berries first, then whatever could be saved from her vegetables. She would have to pick the herbs individually and hope they could still be dried and packaged. There might be a spell in one of her mother’s books to revive some of the garden, but it would take time to flourish as it had again. Judy was heartbroken. She could still feel tears falling down her cheeks.

_ “Ribbit__,”_ she heard from underneath the leaves and petals of her flowerbed. She sniffled, glancing around around. _“__Ribbit__.”_ There it was again. Was there a little creature in her garden?

“Hello?” She whispered, brushing her fingers through the leaves and dirt. “Hello?” But there was no creature in her garden. Only flattened flowers and mangled fruits and veggies. Judy sighed again, taking the apron-full of berries into her kitchen. She glanced at her already stained apron, hoping it would be enough to transport it all. It was depressing to see her prized plants, trampled. Judy couldn’t think of a sadder sight. It took three more trips to bring all the destroyed produce into the house (minus the herbs, which still needed to be picked). She cried all the tears she could as she lugged apron-fulls of her hard work into the kitchen, sorting them as best she could in her sorry state.

“Now what am I going to do?” She asked herself, hands on her hips as she scanned over all the bowls and baskets. She bit her lip. She might as well work on preparing lunch, and then start making new jars of jam. Yes, that seemed like the best course of action. A vegetable soup sounded nice after the morning Judy had. Maybe she could even pick some of herbs for the soup, if she felt emotionally stable enough. She sniffled, wiping her eyes with her apron and taking up a knife. Yes, that was what she would do. 

_ “Ribbit__,”_ she heard from her windowsill. She furrowed her brow. There it was again. She tiptoed toward the window, peering into the outside. She smiled, and then chuckled at the sight of a very muddy frog on the sill. Goodness, she hadn’t seen a frog on that sill in ages. Not since she charmed the house against pests last winter. She wasn’t saying the frogs and little animals were pests, per se, but Judy had found herself not quite fond of seeing beetles in her unmentionables drawer in the early morning. She wondered how this little frog managed to hop through her charmed circle around the house. She thought of her squashed garden for a moment, which had also been breached dispute its charmed circle. Surely no little frog could destroy a garden, but if a little frog has managed to get past, what else could have?

“Hello there,” she said softly, as she pushed the window open a bit. The frog leaped into the house the moment it could, hopping past Judy and onto the counter. She shrieked in surprise, startled by the critter. She had never met an amphibian so daring before. Sighing, she said, “I don’t remember inviting you in, little one.”

The frog looked at her, eyes a shining green, with an almost indignant expression. _“__Ribbit.” _

Judy pouted, eyes glancing to the outside. “I understand is cold out today, but frogs like you live outside,” she said, picking the creature up off the counter and placing it on her windowsill. It sat still, staring out the window before looking back at Judy with the most helpless expression Judy had ever seen in her life. She was too soft to handle this frog. She bit her lip, asking, “Was there something you wanted? Something I could get you?”

The frog leaped in place,_ “__Ribbit.” _

Judy nodded, smiling again. She spun on her heels and took up a small bowl, filling it with water and carrying it back. She placed the bowl beside the frog, and it looked at her for a moment, almost as if it were disappointed, before closing its mouth around the side of the bowl. Judy snorted, raising an eyebrow. The frog croaked softly before sticking its tongue directly in the water. Judy giggled once more as the frog tried again and again, obviously receiving no water from this method. Judy smiled, deciding to help.

“I don’t know how you don’t know, froggie,” she said, gently nudging the frog into her hands and placing it in the water, “but you need to be in the water to be able to drink it.” The frog croaked at her and shimmied around the water, happier than before. Judy sat by the windowsill and watched it. It certainly wasn’t like any frog she had ever met before. The frog almost seemed like a person, with its expressions and the way it attempted to _ talk _ to her. Judy was struck with how odd this little creature was. Nature was extraordinary, she supposed.

She resumed her focus to the vegetables on her counter after a moment, preparing them for her lunch. She mostly ignored the little frog, glancing at it every now and then. The presence of the frog was sort of comforting, though; it was nice to not be complete alone as she typically was. It didn’t move much, remaining in its little bowl of water. There was a moment, while Judy had been boiling water, when a fly began to disturb the quiet of the house. She squatted at it for only a brief second before the little frog had darted its tongue out and snatched up the fly. Judy snapped her head toward the frog and saw that it had the widest eyes, almost as if it were just as surprised as she was. They shared eye contact, before Judy wiped her hands on her apron and said, “Thank you, friend.” She resumed her cooking. By the time her soup was finished, the frog was still situated in the bowl of water. Judy smiled at it and ate a helping of soup next to the window rather than the table. The frog croaked at her, and Judy chuckled, “I would give you some, but I’m afraid you can’t eat any of this. But that fly should be a good enough lunch for you.”

_ “Ribbit!” _

“Don’t be ungrateful, froggie,” Judy chided, pointing her spoon at the frog. It puffed its chest a bit at her, before looking downright frightened. Judy could not understand this frog, who seemingly didn’t know a thing about being a frog. But, before she could do anything else, the frog had whipped itself around and leapt from the windowsill, back out into the forest. Judy watched it hop away until she couldn’t anymore, and she almost felt sad to see it leave. She had quite enjoyed it as her companion, even if it was a little strange. Judy wondered, as she finished her lunch and went out to collect the herbs, if she would ever see that little froggie again. Secretly, she hoped so.

  
__

It was raining. The skies were a darkened grey, with fat droplets of water pouring down like arrows from the gods. The trees were barely enough to stop the army of rain from flooding the forest floor. It was raining so hard, it could flood. Judy huffed, clutching her spellbook to her chest. She had intended to go outside and fix the charm circle around her garden, since today would have been her only time to do so, but it appeared mother nature had different plans. Great. Just great. She had no clue what to do now. Judy just would have to find something else to occupy her day, it seemed, until the rain stopped at least. Which didn’t look like happening anytime soon.

She scampered off to her kitchen, resolving to jar some herbs for Doralee to sell. Her next visit would be in, what, five days? Judy had extras that she wouldn’t be using. Doralee could sell them and bring her back a few new fabrics for dresses or spellbooks for studying, maybe even a pastry from the new baker in town just because. Judy nodded to herself; that seemed the smartest course of action. She glanced down at her current dress, with holes forming near the knees. Maybe she would ask for the fabric first, and then the spellbook. She liked looking nice on tough days. Not that there was anyone around to tell her she looked bad, but still. It was the thought of it that helped.

She reached for the bag of thyme sitting closest to her and heard, _ “Ribbit!” _ Judy snatched the bag away, revealing a little frog sitting behind it, looking quite shocked. Surprised, Judy realized it was the frog from days prior. _ “Ribbit!” _ It croaked, hopping toward Judy.

“You again? What are you doing in my herbs?” Judy questioned, hands on her hips as she stared the little critter down. It croaked softly but simply stared back at Judy. She sighed fondly, rolling her eyes. “You’re lucky I’m a bit fond of you,” she said, picking the frog up and moving it to the windowsill. “Or else you would have been firmly evicted the first time round.”

The frog leapt from her hands to the counter again. _“Ribbit!”_

Judy furrowed her brow, picking up the frog again, “I can’t have you on the counter right now, I need it clean to work on.” The frog ribbited again, hopping back to the counter. Judy was becoming irritated. She tried again to move it to the windowsill, and again it sprang back to its original spot on the counter. It croaked, almost as if it were laughing at her. Judy didn’t appreciate that. She went for it again, but this time, it moved out of her reach. She followed it, and the frog hopped again. Oh no, Judy was having none of this. It became a game of back and forth as Judy raced around her kitchen, attempting to catch this slippery little froggie. She suddenly scooped the frog into her hands and brought it to her shoulder, placing it there firmly, keeping it in her hands but waiting for a moment to see if it would say. Unexpectedly, the little frog didn’t move an inch, nestling itself into a comfortable spot on Judy’s shoulder. She huffed, hands once again on her hips. “You are the strangest frog I have ever met.”

It tapped her shoulder, “_Ribbit_.”

“Right, well I have work to do,” said Judy, washing her hands and bundling thyme together. “Try to stay quiet.” She was rewarded with a quiet croak, and Judy smiled at that. She carefully striped sprigs of thyme from their stem and chopped the leaves finely, packaging them to be sold later. Engrossed, she sorted through the different strands of thyme until that was all finished, moving on to her dill, then her parsley, and then her rosemary. The space around her was quickly filling up with packages of herbs for Doralee, and Judy wrapped a few special bundles as a gift for her friend. It was small but meaningful. Judy hoped she wouldn’t forget to give them to the woman when she visited next. Who was she kidding? She probably would.

Judy wiped her forehead, glancing at the frog still seated on her shoulder. It hadn’t moved an inch since Judy started working. Without fail, the frog had done what Judy had asked of it, and it had done it well. Judy had never met an animal with such manners. Especially not a frog. A hound, or even a feline, perhaps, but an amphibian? It just seemed so bizarre. Not that she wasn’t used to bizarre things in her life by now, but Judy still found it odd. A fluke of nature, she mused. A turn of fate. Whatever this little frog was, Judy enjoy it.

Squaring away the herbs, she tilted her head down and said, “You’ve been quite well behaved, little frog.” Lowing the frog down onto the counter, it croaked at her, almost smiling. Judy chuckled, brushing loose strands of hair from her face. “I suppose good behavior deserves a reward.” She walked to one of her cupboards and removed a jar of dried insects. “I hardly ever use these for potions,” she said, unclasping the lid. Eyeing Judy carefully, the frog leapt to the edge. She shook out a few bugs onto the counter for the frog before turning to return the jar to its spot. She assumed they would be eaten by the time she turned back around. The bugs, however, remained untouched by the frog. In fact, the frog looked downright disgusted. Judy frowned.

“You know, this is probably the best meal you’ll eat,” she said, turning her back one more and fiddling with the piles of packaged herbs. She withheld a sniffle; she didn’t want to let a frog know it had wounded her feelings. But it had. She wouldn’t cry, though. Wiping her eyes, she whipped around with half a mind to toss the little critter outside (it had stopped raining after all), but she saw that all the bugs had been eaten. The frog didn’t look necessarily happy about the fact, but it did look grateful. Judy sighed, hands on her cheeks as she watched the creature. “What am I going to do with you?” she mused, picking the frog up.

_ “Ribbit.” _

She raised an eyebrow. “You are a chatterbox,” said Judy, giggling. “Has anyone ever told you that?” It croaked at her again. Snickering, she carried the frog to her window, pushing it open and putting the frog on the sill outside. She made to close it, but the frog hopped toward. Not fully. It seemed shy, almost tentative, like it wanted to be inside again. Judy furrowed her brows in sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I don’t think you would like living in my house. Froggies like you live outside, remember?” It hopped a little closer to her again, eyes pleading to be allowed in. Judy frowned, chin resting on the sill. She stared at the frog, and it stared in return. She weighed her options in her head. It was clearly asking for permission to come back inside. She could just close the window and redo the spell to keep animals out of the cottage. But she also had become fond of this little frog, and she would feel bad if she just threw it to the cold forest and locked the window. So did she let it stay inside her home? This was too much. She pouted, sighing, “Fine. If you really, _ really _ want to stay here, with me, come to my doorstep in three days time. You cannot come earlier or later. Only then will I let you stay. Do you understand?”

_ “Ribbit! Ribbit, ribbit ribbit!” _ The frog croaked happily. Without warning, it leapt from her windowsill and off into the forest as it had done before. Judy closed the window and smiled. She doubted it would come back in three days, but who knew? This frog was a strange little thing; maybe it would come back. Judy washed her hands again and collected her spellbook. It was time she worked on her garden’s charmed circle issue.


	2. part ii

Judy regretted telling the frog to come back. Well no, she didn’t regret it. She just wasn’t exactly a fan of waking up to a frog loudly croaking outside her house. Not that anyone would be.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called out, tramping down her stairs to the front door. She was tugging on a robe, dressed only in her nightgown, and she hadn’t been ready for the wave of frigid air slapping her as she yanked the door open. Glancing down, there the frog was, sitting and waiting. Judy smiled, rubbing her eyes. “Well, come on,” she said, kneeling down onto her knees. She offered her hand to the frog, allowing it to climb onto to palm. It hopped on with glee, croaking joyfully. Judy couldn’t help but chuckle, placing the frog on her shoulder once more. “You are so peculiar,” said Judy, as she chopped fruit for her breakfast.

_ “Ribbit.” _

Judy sighed, “Yes, I suppose I better get used to you now.”

  
__

It was unbearably hot all of a sudden. Except Doralee said she wasn’t hot, so Judy was over exaggerating. She was most likely exhausted from hauling sack after sack of packaged herbs to Doralee’s wagon before giving up and magicking the last few. It had been funny, though, to see Doralee’s deadpan expression once Judy had levitated the remaining bags. Judy dropped to the loveseat, closing her eyes and wiping her forehead, when she realized she still need to make Doralee lunch before she left. Maybe packaging extras hadn’t been the best idea. Not with Judy’s weak arms, anyway. Doralee had no trouble at all doing the heavy lifting. Maybe Judy need to do more physical labor, but just the idea made her exhausted.

“Did you pass out on me?” Doralee asked, nudging Judy with her foot. Judy cracked an eye open at Doralee sitting beside her.

“Not yet, but I just might,” she said, pushing herself up off the loveseat and toward her kitchen. Stretching her arms out, she gathered a few preserved vegetables and the salted beef Doralee had brought her. She frowned momentarily. She hardly ever ate meat, but Doralee always brought something with her on her journeys to Judy’s cottage to be cooked up for lunch. She typically brought a chicken to be killed, plucked, and eaten, but today she had brought beef. Judy sighed; at least she didn’t have to get Doralee to slaughter something for their lunch. The thought made Judy sick to her stomach, and she quickly shoved the idea from her mind. This beef would be perfect for beef stew. Judy could do that. No problem.

“Did you write that list for what you wanted from town?” Doralee asked from the sitting room.

“Yes, it should be on the table by the door.” She heard shuffling, followed by a thud and scrambling. Doralee was the most graceless person Judy knew. Scratch that, Doralee was the only person Judy knew. Besides Dwayne, and her mother. Not that Judy had seen either of those people in a very long while. The only person she usually saw was Doralee. And that was twice a month at most. Other than that, Judy was alone. Utterly, totally, completely alone. Goodness, that was a bit depressing. Judy sliced the meat, quieting her thoughts. 

“Found it!” Doralee excited, entering the kitchen. Judy nodded, continuing to prepare their meal. Doralee trotted to where Judy stood, peering over her shoulder. She faux whispered, “What are we havin’ for lunch?”

Judy chuckled softly, “Beef stew. Hope you’re hungry.” Doralee mumble something that sounded like “starving” before chuckling to herself. Judy glanced over her shoulder, eyebrow raised, before realizing she had forgotten spices. “Could you get the rosemary from my cupboard, please?”

“Sure thing,” hummed Doralee, handing her the drawstring pouch. Judy thanked her quietly, and Doralee sat herself down at the kitchen table. She unrolled the paper with Judy’s list on it, frowning. Clicking her tongue, Doralee shook her head and hit her lip. “Fabric… a spellbook… that is going to be tough to get,” she murmured to herself. Judy looked over to her.

“Is it usually?” She asked, wiping a hand on her apron before opening the rosemary.

Doralee sighed, reclining in her chair. “No, no not usually. But the king has been putting tariffs on just about everything,” she complained, running a hand through her hair. She stiffened and said, “And recently, anyone caught with magical items in their possessions doesn’t make it out of gaol alive.” Judy said nothing, a hand covering her mouth as she stared at Doralee. She shouldn’t have asked for anything. She would be putting her friend in danger. She went to apologize, but Doralee spoke again. “The town hasn’t been safe for anyone since that princess went missing.”

“What princess?” Judy questioned, furrowing her brow as she lugged the pot of broth over the fire.

Doralee nodded. “The princess of the neighboring kingdom. She went missing less than a fortnight, but their king, King Newstead, is blaming ours for her disappearance,” she said, tying her hair back. She sighed. “That’s why there’s tariffs. The king is thinking of going to war.” Judy froze, knife falling from her grip onto the counter, fear gripping her chest. War meant more people would be trespassing in the forest. Someone could find her. Someone could kill her. “Judy?” Doralee called.

“Is - is he serious?” She asked, her hands beginning to shake. “Do you think he would go to war over this?”

“I don’t know, but he’s certainly preparing for it,” Doralee said reassuringly, but her words were not reassuring in the slightest. Judy’s shoulder trembled as she fought back tears. The last time someone who wasn’t Doralee entered the forest, it didn’t end well. Judy didn’t want to think about it. She wanted the memory out of her head. Her eyes were burning with tears, and she felt Doralee’s strong arms wrapped around her. She heard, “Don’t you cry now. I’ll send word if things get any worse, and you can high tail it out of here, okay?” Judy nodded, but she remained silent. She didn’t want to leave her home, but if war broke out, she would have to. Her knees went weak, and she all but collapsed onto Doralee. The woman carried her to the kitchen table, sitting her down and saying, “How about I finish making lunch?”

Judy shook her head, and she rasped, “I’m sorry, I -”

Doralee smiled, patting Judy’s shoulder. “Don’t be,” she said, moving to the pot over the fire. She gathered the sliced meat and chopped veggies into a bowl, bringing them to the pot and dropping them in. She worked methodically, stirring the stew every few minutes or so. Judy watched her briefly before staring at the vase, filled violets she had picked the day before, on her table with glazed eyes, until she heard a quiet little:

_ “Ribbit.” _ She dabbed her eyes with her sleeve, watching as the frog that had taken up residence in her home hopped toward her. It had a concerned expression, and Judy smiled softly as it leapt up onto her arm and then to her shoulder. It had taken to spending its days with Judy, on her shoulder, but it had been missing since Doralee arrived that morning. Perhaps it was just shy. It was here now, though, and its intentions seemed to be consoling Judy. _ “Ribbit.” _

“Good afternoon to you, too,” she said quietly, her voice a bit hoarse. It croaked again, staring at her with its huge eyes. Judy chucked. Even a frog was comforting her. How silly. She tapped its forehead, smiling, “I’m alright, little froggie. Don’t worry.” It croaked again, still watching her.

“You better not be talkin’ to yourself, Judy,” Doralee said, bringing two bowls of soup to the table. She noticed the frog on Judy shoulder, asking, “And who’s this here?” Judy chuckled, covering her mouth. She slid the bowl closer to herself.

“Just a frog who decided it liked my house a lot more than the forest,” Judy replied, as she began to eat her soup. She noticed the frog leaning forward a bit, staring at her bowl, and she pointed a finger at it as if to say _ “Don’t try it.” _ It leaned away.

“Does it have a name?” Doralee asked in between spoonfuls of her own lunch. Judy suddenly turned red because no, it didn’t. Doralee laughed at that. “It doesn’t, huh? Jesus, Judy, you’re a hoot. Only you get a pet and don’t name it, I swear.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” Judy said, waving her hand at Doralee. An odd feeling settled in her chest. Was this frog her pet? It certainly didn’t feel like one. It had a mind of its own and did just about whatever it wanted, when it wanted. It was more of a housemate, or a friend, rather than an animal she owned. Not a pet. But a name for the frog would probably do some good.

“Well, I think it at least deserves a name.” Judy nodded, pursing her lips. She watched Doralee’s gaze flicker to the clock, and she jolted suddenly, scarfing down her soup. The movement startled her frog, and it quickly hopped away as Doralee scrambled. “I promised Dwayne I would be home before two and it’s already one,” she said, eating like a mad woman. She was racing out the front door a minute later. “I’m sorry to run on you, Judy. I swear, next time I’ll get here earlier.”

“It’s alright, Doralee, really,” she said, walking Doralee to her wagon. Anxiety gripped her chest, and she said softly, “Be safe on your way home, okay?”

“You got it, Judes,” Doralee smiled, reigning her horses and kicking off a second later. She waved as she left, and Judy watched as she disappeared into the woods. Suddenly, she felt very alone again. Kicking the dirt in her path, she trugged herself back to her house and closed the door. It was very empty now that Doralee’s boisterous self was gone. She would be alone until the next visit, but with the climate of the town, Judy doubted a next visit. That made her feel worse. Then, she heard a faint ribbit from somewhere in the cottage. Maybe she wasn’t so alone.

“Where did you get off to, froggie?” She called out, feeling slightly foolish. Maybe now was the time to name her frog. She searched around the room with no luck, unable to locate the amphibian. She looked under the pillows on the loveseat and under the loverseat itself, the shelves and all the trinkets she kept on them, even behind her bookcase, under the floorboards of the stairs, just about everywhere in her home to no avail. That frog was slippery when it wanted to be. Sighing, she returned to her kitchen and sat to finish her lunch. Judy ate in silence before glancing to the vase of violets on the table and a little frog clinging to the stems. She snickered, reaching out and removing the frog from the flowers. “I don’t need you messing up my violets, now,” said Jusy, pausing. She pursed her lips, and a thought came to her. “What if I called you Violet?”

_ “Ribbit!” _

Judy chuckled, “Violet it is.”


	3. part iii

“Oh, gosh darn it,” Judy grumbled, searching through her jewelry box again. She frowned, teeth worrying her lower lip as she reopened the drawers she had searched before to the same results. Hoping not to cry from frustration, Judy rubbed her eyes and sighed. Tension was building in the back of her neck as she slumped, searching, and her stomach was right with knots. She pressed her hands to her cheeks, breathing in and out, staring at a chip in the wood of her vanity table. Her mother’s ring was, unfortunately and distressingly, missing, and Judy was on the verge of a breakdown. She had never lost it before, never misplaced it, never discarded it without care. But it was gone, and it’s space in her jewelry box empty. This was bad. Very bad. Judy sucked in a shaky breath, attempting to will away the anxiety building in her chest.

_ “Ribbit,” _ she heard Violet croak from her bedside table. She turned around, falling graceless onto the vanity chair. 

“Good morning, Violet,” said Judy, her voice quiet and slightly defeated. She rubbed her eyes again, clearing away the sleep from them as she tried to settle herself down. Violet hopped toward her, croaking softly. Judy sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve and huffing. It ribbited loudly, and Judy looked up, attempting not to cry in front of the frog. “I’m sorry, Violet, I just… I can’t find my mother’s ring. And I _know_ it put in my jewelry box last night but now it’s - it’s -” She released a shuddering breath, squeezing her eyes shut as tears began to pool. She felt pathetic.

_ “Ribbit.” _ She felt the weight of Violet on her knee, but she didn’t have it in her to lift the frog to her shoulder. She waved her hand before cupping her cheeks and holding back sobs. She felt Violet leap from her knee to the ground, as well as its croaking as it hopped about, doing whatever it was doing. Judy wasn’t focused on the frog, busy preventing a breakdown so early in the morning, but she soon heard the scraping of metal on the floor and the louder croaking of Violet. She peeked an eye open, looking down to her frog currently pushing a ring with its head in Judy’s direction. The ring… It was her ring. Judy sobbed in relief.

“Oh my - oh, thank goodness!” She exclaimed, dropping to her knees and picking up the ring. She clutched it to her chest and sniffled again, looking at Violet with a relieved grin plastered across her face. She held a hand out to the frog and allowed it to climb on. “Thank you very much, Violet.” Violet croaked, smiling as much as a frog could. For an amphibian, Violet had the loveliest smile. Judy chuckled, sliding the ring onto her finger. “Say,” Judy said, wiping her eyes as she finally stood up. “How did you know where my ring was, anyway?”

_ “ Ribbit.” _

Judy smirked, chuckling to herself wetly. “Alright then, keep your secrets.”

  
__

This had to come to a stop. Now. Judy felt as though she were losing her mind, searching through her kitchen drawers for her flower-cutting knife. It was gone. Just like her mother’s ring had been, and her pendant, and her bag of crystals, and her silver bookmark, and the spoon for her potion cauldron. Judy had gotten particularly good at _ not _misplacing things lately, but now, suddenly, all of her prized possessions were going missing. And then being found by Violet by the time Judy had realized that anything was missing. At first, she thought nothing of it. Violet was small and intelligent, and who was Judy to look under her bed, or behind her bookshelf, or between the cushions of her loveseat when a spoon went missing? But now, she was sure something was amiss. Was Violet taking things and hiding them? Did frogs even do that? Judy huffed, hands on her hips. She would get to the bottom of this.

Judy paused, briefly wondering if she was diving head first into baseless conclusions. Violet was only a frog, and what frog held ulterior motives? And it wasn’t as if Judy’s possessions were going entirely missing. They were typically returned within a day or two of being missing. Perhaps she was being a bit hasty. Nevertheless, her flower knife was missing. And Violet was aware that they always cut flowers together in the late afternoons. So perchance she did take them. Perchance she was taking away all of Judy’s things. And thus the cycle began again. Judy sighed, her mind pacing through a vicious circle of wondering whether Violet had stolen her scissors or not. Judy rubbed her cheek. There was, truthfully, only one way to revolve this little kerfuffle. 

“Violet!” She called from the kitchen, tapping her foot on the floor. She waited, listening as Violet made its way to Judy. She watched, hands still poised on her hips. It croaked at her happily, seemingly guiltless and blameless. Judy’s heart melted for the briefest of seconds before she narrowed her eyes. She knew better. She leaned down, squatting as she stared Violet in its eyes. She offered her hand and it leapt on. Bringing Violet close to her face, she sweetly asked, her voice dripping in innocence and naivety, “Little one, have you, by chance, stolen my flower knife?” Violet croaked; it looked guilty! Judy furrowed her brow, suddenly bringing Violet closer, almost eye to eye. “Answer me, little froggie, or suffer the consequences!” She roared with fury and madness, her eyes wilder than they had ever been. Judy was sure she looked, and sounded, incredibly ridiculous, but if Violet had stolen her assorted items, she was going to get the answer from its frog mouth. Whatever it took.

Violet shied away from her glare, croaking, _ “Ribbit…” _

Judy hopped up in outrage and exclaimed, “AHA! I knew it! You have been stealing my things, haven’t you!” Judy set Violet down onto the counter. She began to pace, raving like a madwoman. “You’re after something, aren’t you! Is it my magic? My soul? My heart? My precious, sellable possession? What is it you’re after, you tiny thief! Tell me this instant!” She whipped around to face the frog, finger pointed, with a murderous look in her eye, but Violet was gone. Disappeared. Vanished. Nowhere to be seen. Judy’s heart immediately sank, and she then felt very, very terrible. She glanced around, not seeing Violet anywhere. “Violet?” She called, searching through her kitchen for the froggie. She checked her drawers and her cupboards, behind the spices and herbs, even the cauldron. But nowhere was the frog. “Violet, sweetie, I’m sorry!” She called out, louder, moving to search through the sitting room. She couldn’t find Violet at all. This was not good. Judy was going to cry. Oh, what had she done? She’d driven her frog friend from her home! Their home! She was a monster! A heartless cretin who did not deserve her little frog’s friendship. Goodness, she was going to blubber like a baby for the seventh time this week! She wiped her eyes, dropping down onto the loveseat. “Violet, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so awful to you,” she cried out, and suddenly tears were spilling from her eyes at an unimaginable pace. She made no attempt to wipe them away, instead choosing to wallow on her couch. She shouldn’t have yelled, or accused Violet, or called her a tiny thief. She had been enraged in the heat of the moment and now she was filling up with regret. She hardly ever reacted in such a way, to anything, but the fact of her missing items had apparently weighed her on too much. Still, what she had done was no way to treat a friend. What if Violet ran away? What if she jumped from the kitchen window and never, ever came back? What if Judy never saw Violet again, and the last things she had said to the frog were insults? She couldn’t handle that. Judy’s heart shattered at the thought, and she began to cry harder. What an absolute mess she had made of this!

Her head snapped up as she heard, _ “Ribbit!” _ She bolted up from her seat, filled with contrasting emotions, and scrambled to the kitchen once again, seeing Violet sitting atop her flower knife. She cried out loudly in relief, scurrying to scoop Violet into her arms and hold it close, stupid scissors forgotten as she relished in the sight of her friend. The frog croaked weakly, and Judy released it before she suffocated the poor amphibian. It looked at her, ribbiting in apology as it glanced to the knife. Judy smiled, eyebrows furrowed, patting its head and wiping her wet cheeks of tears.

“I’m sorry for overreacting, little froggie. What I did was wrong, even if you were guilty,” she murmured, helping Violet to her shoulder. She picked up her flower knife and took her sunhat off the rack by the door, positioning it atop her head and smiling. “You know,” she said, as they walked through the quiet forest. “You need to stop hiding my things from me. It isn’t very nice to do that.” Violet gave a croak in agreement, and Judy nodded her head. She cut a few lilies, holding them close and smiled. “Don’t do it again, Violet.” She got no reply from the little creature and continued walking their usual path. She trusted Violet to respect her wish. It may be a frog, but it was her smart little frog and it lived in her house. There were rules to be followed. And it should know better. But, she supposed little things going missing everyday wasn’t so bad. As long as Violet returned them to her sooner rather than later. She could deal with it, not that she particularly wanted to.

But when her fabric scissors went missing the following day, Judy simply rolled her eyes and called out, “Violet, have you seen my scissors?” And when she was met with the ribbit and the scraping on metal on the wood, along with the returning of her scissors, Judy decided she _ could _ live it.


	4. part iv

Judy hadn’t seen Doralee in over a month. She was well aware the woman could fend herself perfectly fine, but she worried nonetheless. It wasn’t like Doralee to not warn her if she wasn’t visiting. Judy had taken to anxiously watching the windows when she wasn’t outside and staring at the dirt path leading to her house when she was. It was not healthy. And with the threat of war for the kingdom, her anxieties were higher than they had been in sometime. Violet had certainly noticed; it was too smart not to. There was nary a moment when it wasn’t on her shoulder, lately, croaking softly every so often. Perhaps it knew Judy found the noise comforting in her empty house. Knowing that frog, it most likely did. But as the days trekked on, its soothing charm was swiftly wearing off.

“You don’t think anything bad has happened to her, do you, Violet?” She asked as she gathered apples from her tree. The frog croaked, and Judy sighed. “I can’t help but imagine the worst. She said she would write if things got any worse, but she hasn’t. What if something happened prevented her from telling me if war broke loose?” Her hands began to shake as she reached for another ripe apple. Violet croaked again. Judy lowered her hand, and she turned her head to look at the frog. “I just - I hope she’s okay, Violet.”

“Jeepers, Judy, why wouldn’t I be okay?” Judy whipped around, her basket of apples slipping from her grasp as her eyes took in the sight of a sweaty Doralee. She felt Violet hop from her shoulder as she charged the woman and crushed her in a hug. Doralee hugged her, laughing deeply. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

“A little late? Doralee, you had me worried sick!” Judy exclaimed, cupping Doralee’s cheeks. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you fleeing the village? Where’s Dwayne? Do you need to stay here? I’m sure I can -”

Doralee pushed Judy off, chuckling and rubbing her face. “I’m just fine, Judy. Don’t you worry over me.” Judy frowned, crossing her arms. Doralee waved her off, stauntering to her wagon and retrieving a bag. She glanced over her shoulder, grinning. “Gimme a hand, would ya?” Judy nodded, walking up next to her and lifting the bag from the wagon. Doralee grunted, smiling, “I got everything ya asked for. Fabrics, spellbooks, the works!”

“Oh Doralee! Thank you,” Judy grinned, hugging the woman again. Doralee chuckled, patting Judy’s back. The witch glanced into the wagon, and she noticed more supplies than usual covered with a sheet. She furrowed her brow, pulling away. “Doralee, are you going somewhere?”

Doralee sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Can’t hide anything from ya, can I?” She joked, smiling. But her smile faded, and Judy found a new ball of anxiety wedging itself in her throat. Doralee sighed, “Tensions are high in town. The king is gettin’ closer and closer to war with every passing day. Dwayne and I… we decided to get out while we can.” Judy opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t, for the life of her, will the words to leave. War was imminent? Doralee was leaving? Did that mean that Judy needed to leave? Where would she go? Doralee halted her inner panic. “I didn’t have the heart to tell you in person, so I wrote a letter and stashed it in the bag. There’s a location and a map in there. The place me and Dwayne are headed to. In case you didn’t have anywhere else.”

Judy suddenly couldn’t breathe. Her world was falling in on itself, and she was falling with it. Her knees buckled, and then she was collapsed on the floor, crying and trembling. Sobs wretched from her poor throat, and she could feel Doralee’s strong arms wrap around her. They brought no comfort, however. Her life was being stripped from her with a few words, and she couldn’t even inhale without a struggle. This was too much. Goodness. What was she going to do? Leave? Stay? Cry more? The latter sounded like her best option for the moment. Doralee mumbled reassuring words, but Judy couldn’t really understand them. She just nodded along, trying to wipe away the tears as they fell. It didn’t do much except smear them across her cheeks. She was a wreck. She felt cursed, doomed, plagued. Gods help her.

“I can’t stay for long,” said Doralee softly, cupping Judy’s cheek. “I have to go back into town to get Dwayne and the rest of our things.” Judy nodded, sniffling and wiping her eyes again. Doralee frowned, helping the witch to her feet. “Are you gonna be okay, Judes?”

“I -” Judy paused, her throat dry and hoarse. She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know yet.” Doralee nodded, hugging her one last time. She inhaled deeply, whispering, “You should get going. The sun is going to set soon, and it would be best to leave during the night.”

Doralee smiled warily, “I’ll see you again. Ya can’t get rid of me so easy.”

Judy laughed wetly, eyes cast to the ground. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Doralee.” She smiled, trying to be stronger than she had been a moment ago. Doralee climbed into her wagon and went to speak, but Judy stopped her. “Don’t - don’t say goodbye?” Doralee chuckled sadly. Was she crying?

“See ya ‘round, Judy,”

Then, she was off down the path. Judy watched her wagon until it was gone, and even until the sun had set and it was dark around her. Judy stood still, unmoving, as her mind wallowed in the stew of fear and panic and dread all swirling inside. She had two choices, or really only one. She would have to leave. War brought people into her forest. People brought death. She didn’t want to die, not like -

“Violet?” She called out, swiftly heading inside her home. She slung the bag over her shoulder, glancing around the room. “We need to start packing up, Violet. Have you hidden anything?”

No reply came, and Judy rolled her eyes. So, the frog wanted to be stubborn. Judy had no time for Violet's antics. She retrieved a couple satchels from a closet. She would have to leave some things behind. She didn’t have a wagon like Doralee did. It was time to decide what she deemed were her essentials. The thought made her ill. She didn’t know if she could part with anything in this home of hers. With a heavy heart, she began with her spellbooks. She only had two. Well, three now that Doralee had bought her another. They would have to come. She took her oldest book from the shelf. It had been her mother’s. Her chest constricted, and her eyes watered. She held the book to her chest, eyes taking in everything about her sitting around. It felt like hell to realize she would _ have _to leave. There was so much of Judy in this place. It was like she would be leaving behind a piece of her soul here. Her hands trembled.

“My - my mother died in this house,” she called out to Violet. She sighed, wiping her eyes again. She was tired of crying. “It used to be just us. She had been driven out of the town for witchcraft.” Judy stroked the worn leather of the book, holding back more tears. “I had gone out to collect materials one morning, for a spell I wanted to try with her. She said I would have to find everything I needed by myself, if I ever wanted to be a real witch. So I went out, alone. I was only gone a couple of hours but…” Her throat tightened, and Judy dropped onto the loveseat, tears falling freely. She made to attempt to wipe them this time. “Someone must have found the house and come inside. Everything was destroyed. There must have been a fight, or something, I -” She hiccuped. “She was… gone by the time I returned. I’m not sure if I’d ever cried so hard in my life.” Her lip quivered. “And then it was just me, all alone in this house. No one else.” She sniffled, and she felt a smile tug on her lips. “Until you came. Then I wasn’t so alone. And you’re a frog. Goodness, I must be crazy,” she chuckled, standing up. The house was eerily quiet. And Violet was terrible at staying quiet this long. Panic clutched her heart. Judy’s gaze flicked around the room. “Violet?” Nothing. “Violet? Violet where are you?” Still nothing. Oh god. She couldn't handle this. “Violet, sweetie? Please come out? Please?” But there came no response.

The house remained silent. Save for Judy’s sobs.

__  
  


It was time. Judy had both satchels on her shoulders and one pack on her back, and she couldn’t move her feet. She had spent the last four days packing to leave, and now it was time to go. She was going to leave, honest. Unfortunately, her legs weren’t in agreeance with her mind. Neither was her heart, but her heart wouldn’t be doing the walking. So her legs need to get it together and _ walk, _darn it! One foot after the other. It wasn’t so hard. Except Judy simply couldn’t. Her heart ached like hell with every attempt to leave. This was going to kill her. But Judy would be dead if she stayed. She paused. Judy hadn’t seen Violet since she had decided to leave. What if it came back, but Judy was gone? What if she never saw Violet again? Her hand trembled, but she steeled herself. Violet was a resourceful little frog. And she was only a frog. Judy shouldn’t have gotten so attached to an amphibian. Judy was being silly. It was time to leave, Violet or no. Still, her heart ached for her tiny friend.

Judy shook her head._ “Goodbye,” _ she murmured to the house, hand stroking the wood of the doorway. She took one step and stopped. She inhaled and took another. And another. And another. And another. Then she was walking. Striding. Leaving her home, her life, her everything behind. But it was for the best. She was leaving her life to live. The irony weighed like a pound of bricks on her soul. She didn’t have time for the pain. She had too much ground to cover before sundown. Adjusting a satchel, she upped her pace. She had no choice; she had to do this. Face the future. Even if it was scary. Terrifying. If surviving meant leaving, so be it. She straightened, not once glancing at her home from over her shoulder. She wouldn’t cave. Judy knew the forest well, but the map was confusing. She followed it to the best of her abilities, but the sun was hot on her. Exhaustion crept into her bones with every step. She refused to stop, though. She was strong, and she would carry on. She had made it, emotionally, this far already. There was no stopping her now.

_ Snap. _

Judy whipped her head around. Dread settled in the base of her spine at the snap of a twig. Was someone there? Or was it just an animal? She watched a squirrel scurry by and sighed. Everything was fine. She was fine. It would be fine

_ Snap. _

Oh goodness. Everything was bad. Very bad. Terribly bad. She was doomed. Today was it. The day she died. No more Judy. She had foolishly left her home and now she was paying the price. She just hoped it would painless. She didn’t want to die in agony. Although she felt she might die from the agony churning in her stomach. Gods save her from whatever this was. The thought to use magic crossed her mind, and Judy raised her arms in defense, summoning her strongest spell. Another few twigs snapped, and she sent out a wave of magic as she heard:

_ “Ribbit.” _

Judy froze, looking down at her feet, where a little frog sat. “V-Violet?”

_ “Ribbit!” _

Tears streamed down Judy’s cheeks as she collapsed on the ground, crying, “Violet!” The frog leapt into her lap and Judy was quickly picking it up. She held the frog to her chest, crying without abandon, and a smile spread across her lips for the first time in days. The frog croaked, as if to exclaim with joy at the sight of Judy. “Oh I’m so happy I’ve found you!” She cradled Violet to her cheek, and on a whim, she pressed her lips to the top of Violet’s head. The little frog croaked. Judy stood, “Now, we need to -”

Violet croaked, loudly, but it sounded like a scream. Judy felt as the frog in her hands warmed, and then it began to glow. She should have dropped the creature, but she was frozen. The glow washed over her, effectively blinding her. The croaking, or rather the screaming, grew louder and more agonized. It sounded downright human, now. Like a woman, almost. Judy’s heart pounded in her ears, and it felt as if her magic were pulsing through her body along with her blood. It was like her skin was being pricked it magic needles, and she as unable to brush away the irritation. The weight of the frog in her hands was becoming heavier and heavier, spreading from just her palms to her forearms and then her biceps. Judy was vaguely aware she wasn’t holding her little companion anymore. She didn’t know what on earth she was holding. She couldn’t see a thing. The glow was getting worse, and Judy feared perhaps she was now permanently blind. She feared she was going deaf too, unable to hear anything anymore. Until:

_ “Jesus Christ.” _ Then the glow was gone. Judy could see! Relief flooded her senses, but her arms were quick to remind of a hefty weight within them. Her gaze whipped around, landing swiftly on a _ woman _ now in her arms. A naked woman. Well, she did have a necklace on. But other than that, she was totally nude. _ What on earth? _Judy opened her mouth, a scream building in the back of her throat. The woman looked up at her, wincing. “Please, for the love of god, do not scream,” she said. Judy’s eyes widened, and she breathed heavily, nodding her head. She was still holding the woman. The naked woman. The pretty woman. The naked, pretty woman. Gods save her. What was happening?

She gathered a morsel of courage and whispered, “Who are you?”

“I -” the woman said, a hand coming to her throat. She swallowed. “I’m Violet.”

“You’re human.”

The woman stared at her. “I sure am.”

“Violet was a frog.” Judy tried not to drop the woman, but her arms were not very strong. In fact, they were as tough as a twig. She readjusted. “Who are you? Where’s my frog?”

The woman smiled nervously, “Would you believe me if I said I _ was _ your frog?”

“I wouldn’t, but good effort.” The woman sighed, and suddenly Judy couldn’t hold her anymore. Her arms gave out in a split second, careening them downward. She collapsed to the ground, the mystery woman in tow, landing on top of her (very nude) body. Judy glanced up in shame, and her jaw dropped as she stared at the woman’s face. Or rather, her eyes. Her green eyes. Her familiar green eyes. Judy peered closer. Where had she seen those eyes before? She had really only ever seen Doralee’s baby blues. But she had seen… It rammed into Judy like a sack of flour. _ Those eyes! _They were the same eyes she had seen every time she looked at her frog. Her little companion. Her Violet! Her chest imploded on itself. “You’re - you’re - it’s you! You’re my - my frog! You’re my frog!” Exclaimed Judy, hands suddenly cupping the woman’s cheeks and bringing their faces together. She began to examine the woman, pulling her eyelids up, coming through her dark blonde hair, pinching her cheeks. “I cannot believe it! You’re my frog! How can you be my frog? You’re a human! But you were my frog!”

The woman chuckled nervously, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think we’ve established this. Now, uh, would you mind… getting off me?” Judy glanced down and remembered this woman was, in fact, still _ very _ naked. She blushed bright red, jerking backwards and off of the woman. She was an idiot. A moron. _ A buffoon. _Goodness gracious.

“I - I am so - sorry, I -” She stammered, hands shaking. “You’re naked, I forgot. I - I have some clothing, I’ll just…” She reached her hands into her pack, clawing around for a change of clothes. She found a pair of trousers and a white shirt. This would have to do. She all but flung the clothing at the woman, eyes still averted from her nude (and muscular) form. “You can wear those, and we can go back to - to my house.”

The woman accepted the clothes, standing. “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was deep, and warm. She sounded nothing like how Judy imagined her frog would sound. She sounded better. She liked this woman’s voice. It stirred something in her. Judy blushed deeper, struggling to get up on her feet. She felt strong hands on her shoulder, helping her stand. She looked up, seeing the woman, now fully clothed, smiling at her. “There you go,” the woman grinned. “Thank you for the clothes. Do you want help with one of your bags?” Judy opened and closed her mouth like a fish, staring intensely at the gorgeous woman. She was absolutely beautiful. Judy smiled awkwardly, tucking hair behind her ear, and nodded. The woman smiled brighter and slung both her satchels over her shoulders. Her broad shoulders. “Lets go,” she said.

They walked briskly through the woods. As it happened, Judy had not made it very far from her home, barely an hour away. They traversed in silence, the woman’s eyes set dead ahead and Judy’s eyes trained on her. She was tall. Incredibly tall. With long, long legs and strong arms and broad shoulders. Judy had never seen anyone like her. Judy had never seen anyone besides Doralee and her mother. Her heart was racing like a river, doing somersaults in her chest each time Violet caught her eye and smiled. They reached her home before noon, and Judy felt anxious suddenly. She knew nothing about this woman. She had been living with that frog for months; she had to know far more about Judy. Perhaps it was best to ask a few questions.

“What’s your name?” Judy asked as she lowered her pack down.

“My name is Violet.”

Judy rolled her eyes. “Your real name, please,” she said.

“My real name is Violet.”

Judy was becoming frustrated. “No, your name as a frog was Violet. Who are you?” She demanded.

The woman dropped Judy’s bags and stood before her. She towered over the witch. “My name is Violet Newstead, daughter to Charles Newstead.”

Judy’s eyes widened. “K-King Newstead?” She questioned. Her hands shook. “You - you mean, _ you’re _ the missing princess? The one whose disappearance is about to start a war?” Violet froze, eyes as large as a frog. No pun intended. Then, she broke into action, pacing.

“War? Christ, I have to get home! I-I have to find my father!” Violet exclaimed, running her hands through her hair. She turned to Judy. “Is there a path that leads into town from here?”

“Yes, but it’s a bit light so I don’t know if-”

Violet pressed her lips to Judy’s, swallowing her words with a kiss. Judy nearly kissed her back until Violet pulled away and said, “Thank you.” Then she was out the door in a flash of light. Judy ran to the doorway, watching with disbelief as the woman took off running down the path Doralee always traveled to her home. She touched her lips, emotions swelling inside her, churning in a pot of confusion. Her frog was a human. Her frog had been a frog, living with her, and now it was a human. And not just any human, a princess. A princess whose disappearance had begun the steps toward war. A war that had driven Judy from her home Her frog had _ kissed her. _ Judy bit her lower lip and glanced down, to a footprint in the dirt. She had seen that indent somewhere. _ Somewhere. _ But where had Judy -

_ “Violet ruined my garden!” _


	5. v

She was expecting Doralee to be outside. A knock on the door always meant Doralee was there. That’s how it always had been, for years. Only Doralee knew the way to her house. Expect, Doralee had fled their town, and there was no one else who regularly came by. So the man dressed head to toe in royal garb, with an ornate crest on his clothing, in front of her home was certainly _ not _ Doralee. And yet there he was. Judy peaked through the window on her door just barely, hoping to avoid detection by the man. She took in the sight of him, shoulders sagging. He was short, and thin, and frail, and looked as though he hadn’t slept for days. Judy nearly felt bad for the poor fellow. But he was also trespassing in _ her _ forest, in _ her _ home. And she didn’t know him. She should have been more threatened by the man’s presence, but he seemed so weak and small, she wasn’t keen on wasting any of her magic on him. So she waited for him to leave. And waited. And waited. And waited. Three hours passed, and Judy felt frustration rising in her throat. Who was this irritating man? What was his purpose in her forest? Why hadn’t he left already? Judy felt half crazy with annoyance. And after the weeks she’d had, really -

“Miss?” Called the man from outside her door. “Miss? I - I am unsure if you are inside, but I was ordered not to leave until you have received this letter from the Princess.” The princess? Judy slapped her forehead, eyes widening. Violet. He had a letter from Violet. Her frog. No, not her frog. The human. Because Violet, the human (and princess), was not a frog. Anymore. But the man outside her door had a letter from her Violet. Judy suddenly felt far more keen on opening the door for the tired man. Unfastening the latch, she haphazardly threw open her door as the man said, “Please miss, I just want to…” He trailed off at the sight of Judy.

She tapped her foot impatiently. “You said you had a letter from Violet.” The man did not reply, and he looked quite startled. Judy sighed. “Well?” He jolted, a shaky hand reaching into a bag on his hip. He withdrew the letter, and Judy was quick to snatch it from his grasp. She broke the wax seal, the crest on it matching the one on the man’s clothing, when she glanced up. He stole still, watching her. She did not enjoy that. “I’ve received the letter,” she said, holding the paper close to her chest. “You may go.”

The man shifted his weight. “Are you not going to write a reply to the princess?” He asked. Judy felt her cheeks flush. What would be the point in replying? Surely there wasn’t one. Violet was a princess, and Judy was a hermit in the woods. They were vastly different, that much was clear. And what could be in this letter that was so dire, Judy would have to respond to it? The thought seemed silly. Though, the idea of creating a steady correspondence with Violet did seem a bit appealing, if only briefly. That was a fantasy she would not indulge in. She wouldn’t. Violet had her life. Judy had hers. The twain did not have to meet again. Even if Judy _ did _ miss Violet. Just a bit. Or, rather, quite a lot. Judy had no intentions of admitting that to this stranger, however. She stiffened, brushing hair from her face.

“I - I won’t be,” said Judy, moving to close the door on the man. “And you may tell Violet that. I wouldn’t -” She sucked in a breath, steeling herself. “I wouldn’t want her to be waiting in vain for a letter from me.” The man nodded, and off he was atop his horse and down the path that Doralee usually took. Judy observed him, as he retrieved a map and compass from his bag, riding off. A map? How was he to follow a map from here to his kingdom? How did he know where this was? Judy recalled Violet speeding down the same path. Surely she had been too preoccupied with returning home to prevent a war to make note of the path she had taken? Judy bit her lower lip, her mind foolishly recalling what had occurred before Violet had set off. Her lips then tingled, and she cursed. If she were honest, there had not been a single day since Violet’s departure that Judy didn’t thinking about that…_ kiss. _It had been so surprising, and yet pleasant. She hadn’t expected it, but… she had liked it. Oh, the thought was embarrassing. Her frog, Violet, had kissed her. And she had liked it. Of all the bizarre things to happen in Judy’s life. Judy latched the door again, and her eyes stared down at the letter in her hands. She felt compelled to not read, to throw it in her fireplace and be done with it. But she missed Violet, frog or human, and she supposed reading the letter wouldn’t hurt her so much.

_ Dear Judy, _ it read, _ I am sorry I left in such a haste the last time I saw you. I hadn’t meant to. The truth is, I had been so enamored by you, the war between our kingdoms had slipped my mind. You’re really very pretty. But I ran off once you had reminded me of it. Again, I am sorry. I didn’t want to wait too long to write this, because I didn’t want to put it off and risk the possibility of you becoming cross with me. I hope you’re not. If you are, it’s my plan that this letter assuages any upset I caused. And, I would like to come see you sometime. If that’s alright. I miss you. Although, I would like to - _

Judy crumpled the letter in her hands. She would not read further. Violet missed her. She missed Judy. The princess of an entire kingdom missed her, a simple witch in the forest. Her heart swelled, and Judy furiously tried to cover the red now staining her cheeks. Not that anyone would see her. But, she hadn’t felt so giddy in years. Not that she had a reason to be giddy. She wouldn’t be writing back, Violet wouldn’t hear from her, they would never establish another meeting. Their lives were separated, regardless of how much Judy missed Violet. And how much Violet supposedly missed Judy. But Violet surely needed to get back to her royal life. She had spent enough time as a silly little frog on Judy’s shoulder. She didn’t need to waste any more time on Judy. That just wouldn’t do. This was for the best.

Judy nodded her head, vowing that man would be the last person who wasn’t Doralee to come knocking at her door.

  
__

Apparently being a hermit witch in the woods was difficult nowadays.

The knocking on her front door was beginning to irritate her as she plucked apples from her tree in her garden. Judy rolled her eyes; she had hoped sending that messenger back to Violet empty-handed would have been the end of this whole mess. She supposed that was too much to hope for. Signing, she lowered her basket to the ground and stretched her arms over her head. There was someone at her door, and knowing the kind of people Violet sent, they wouldn’t leave until she made them. She glanced to her tree, still with fruit to pick. She huffed, smirking; whoever was at her door could wait. She wasn’t going to take time out of _ her _ day to attend to their business. Not if she wanted to bake that apple pie before sundown. Judy grabbed her basket again and reached for another apple, humming a soft tune to herself. She took her time, making trips inside to deposit the picked apples and empty her basket.

She whistled, swinging her basket as she heard, “Judy?” Her heart stopped. Judy poked her head out her backdoor, seeing Violet standing in the middle of her garden. Oh goodness, this couldn’t be happening. Violet glanced over her shoulder, perking up at the sight of Judy. “Judy!” She exclaimed, jogging toward the witch with a pleased grin.

“V-Violet,” Judy stammered, cheeks turning a dark red. “What are you doing here?” She couldn’t believe it. Violet was there, right in front of her. Her face was flushed, and her hair fell messily around her face. She looked gorgeous all the same. Judy cast her gaze down and tucked a stray hair behind her ear in an attempt to not stare at Violet. She was failing, and so was the hair falling out from behind her ear.

“Didn’t you get my letter? I said I wanted to come see you,” Violet said, nonchalant. She brushed her fingers against Judy’s cheek, tucking the hair for her. Judy blushed in embarrassment. She had _ received _ Violet’s letter, although she hadn’t exactly finished reading it. She suddenly felt very awful. Violet’s smile dropped as she took in Judy’s expression. “Did you… not want to see me?” She asked, retracting her hand from Judy’s face. Judy scrambled to take it between her own hands.

“No! No, no that isn’t it at all,” sputtered Judy. “I - I just didn’t want you to waste your time on me. You’re a princess, and… I’m a recluse living in the woods.” Violet took both Judy’s hands in hers, towering above her and peering into her eyes. Judy swallowed, her heart beating in her throat. The moment was so soft and intimate, Judy thought she would faint. Or swoon. Preferably into Violet’s arms. Violet’s strong arms. Muscular arms. Goodness, she was a built woman. Judy exhaled through her nose.

“I want to see you,” Violet repeated, smiling again. Her smile was dazzling.

Judy nodded, hands on the verge of trembling in Violet’s. “Then,” she said softly, gesturing to the inside of her home, “I’m glad you’re here.” She took a half step back as Violet walked through the door, taking a moment to appreciate her shoulders. And her back. And her lower back. And her -

“It looks so much different than I remember,” said Violet, hands on her hips.

“Perhaps because the last time you were really here, you were a frog,” Judy quipped, trotting to her kitchen and the counter of apples that needed peeling. She sighed. Hearing no reply, Judy assumed Violet had walked off to look around the house for a moment. She just hoped the sticky fingers Violet had utilized as a frog were no longer an issue. She would have to talk to the woman about that. Goodness, this was strange. Shaking her head, she grabbed an apple and her knife, beginning to peel the fruit as she whistled again. She cut one long, continuous peel, finishing at least one apple until she felt Violet’s hands on her waist. Blush crept up her neck, to her cheeks. Violet’s hands were big, and _ warm. _ Judy nearly melted. “Vi-Violet,” she murmured, turning her head over her shoulder. “What are you -” Violet’s lips were against hers in a split seconds. Judy gasped, eyes wide open, hands flailing as Violet kissed her soundly. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but the kiss felt rather nice. She shifted a bit, leaning into the kiss and allowing her arms to rest around Violet’s shoulders. She hummed against the princess’ lips, fingers then tangling in the dark blonde locks. It wasn’t until VIolet’s tongue glided across her lips that Judy pulled away with a jerky movement and a soft noise.

“Judy?” Violet questioned, her hands still gripping her waist.

Judy slid her hands to Violet’s cheeks. She floundered. “I-I’m sorry,” She said, biting her lower lip. It was a bit swollen, and very sensitive. She shook her head. “You… you were _ my frog. _Kissing you is...”

“Strange?” Violet offered playfully, but her eyes held a kind of sad gleam.

“Yes, yes that’s it,” Judy answered. She smiled shyly, removing her hands from Violet’s cheeks. “Sorry.” Violet nodded, stepping away. Judy fidgeted with her hands, then. “Was that -” she started. “Was that _ why _ you wanted to see me?”

Violet stared at her before her eyes widened. “No, no! No, I hadn’t - that wasn’t - I-” She stumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. She sighed. “I wanted to see you because I wanted to thank you. For being so kind to me while I was…” She waved her head, hoping Judy would get the idea. Judy nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I saw you there and I… I don’t know. You just looked so radiant.” The compliment made Judy’s cheeks warm and her heart leap. Goodness, this woman! Judy huffed. “I’m sorry.”

Judy shooed her away, smiling. “It’s alright.” Violet relaxed, her shoulders sagging a bit.

“I also wanted to make it up to you,” said Violet, following as Judy returned to her spot in front of the counter and resuming her task of apple peeling. “I’m going to help you out around here!” She was grinning again.

“You’re going to _ what?” _ Judy demanded, dropping her knife and apple.

Violet nudged Judy away from the counter with her hip, taking up the dropped knife and apple. She began to peel the fruit as she explained, “You do so much around this old house by yourself. And you did take such good care of me. So I’m returning the favor and helping you. I’m pretty handy if I say so myself.” Violet nodded to herself, raising her thumb up and grinning wider. Judy rolled her eyes, realizing there was no way to argue with her. And Judy had to admit, she did do quite a lot all by herself. A helping hand would be very much appreciated. Violet could peel the apples for her, and then start on repairing one of the stairs that creaked too much. Judy sighed.

“Alright.” she relented, standing beside Violet. She pursed her lips. “Where are you going to stay?”

Violet raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

Judy rolled her eyes again. “Where in here?”

Violet scrunched her brow. “With… you?”

“In _ my _ bed?”

“No…?”

“Then where?”

Violet chewed her cheek. “The floor?”

Judy sighed, smiling fondly. Oh this woman. She was something else. It would do no good for Violet to sleep on the floor. Judy mentally kicked herself for turning her old bedroom into a storage room. She could have at least kept the bed. Well, she supposed that meant there was really only one option. Judy patted Violet’s cheek and said, “You can share with me.” Violet breathed out in relief. Judy wiggled her finger. “So long as you keep your hands to yourself, miss.”

“Yes ma’am,” Violet said, saluting before she began to peel again. Judy chuckled, taking her basket and strolling to the backdoor. She glanced to Violet over her shoulder.

“And Violet?” The woman’s head perked in her direction. “We’re going to have a talk about what happened to my garden when you first showed up.” Violet laughed, full bellied, nearly doubling over, and Judy smiled. She clicked her tongue and went back to apple picking.


	6. xi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta. i went insane

Violet was helpful. There was no denying that. Violet had told her she wanted to help, and of course Judy had taken the princess up on that offer. The stairs needed some repairs, the front door too, and of course the floors needed sweeping and the bookshelves needed to be reorganized, and while she was at it, there was a crack in one of the windows that needed fixing, and so much more. And Violet, looking as happy as a clam, didn’t complain about any of the work. She may have been royalty, but she was humble. Who would have thought? She cleaned and fixed and shelved and whatever else Judy asked of her. She was handy, just like she had said she was. And it was sweet, really. Judy was beyond thankful for everything. But goodness, there was just so much that needed to be done. The floors also could also use a good scrub, the upstairs roof had a rather large hole that caused a nasty leak on rainy days, one of the legs of the loveseat was wobbly and the table legs were too. En re, there were still so, so many things to be done. But, as she watched Violet with a bucket and scrub in hand and cheeks redder than roses, huffing and puffing as she worked the grime out of the wooden floors, Judy worried if she was overworking the poor woman. It certainly seemed like it.

Judy frowned, eyes looking down to the potato soup she was in the middle of preparing for their lunch. Violet quite liked them eating together, said she enjoyed talking to Judy, learning about her. Judy didn’t mind sharing, but it did irk her that, while Violet loved asking questions about her life and listening intently, she was a bit flippant when it came to Judy asking questions. Judy was curious, naturally. Life in a palace, growing up as a princess, was something the common woman only cold dream of and desire for herself and her family. And, yes, Judy was curious about her family. Her father, the king. If she had siblings. (How she came about being… well, a frog.) If she was engaged. (A frog who happened to live with Judy for many months.) How come she rode a horse like a knight. (Why she had kissed Judy.) Why she was allowed to stay with Judy in the forest, even though she had been “missing.” (If, _ or when, _ she planned on kissing Judy again.) You know, those sorts of things. Judy liked Violet, but she wanted to _ know _her.

“Lunch is almost ready, Violet,” called Judy from the kitchen, stirring the pot atop the fire. She wiped her hands on her apron as she trod toward where Violet was scrubbing. She knelt down and said, “Violet, how about you take a break? Eat lunch and relax for the afternoon?” Her hand rested on Violet’s shoulder blade, and Violet sat back on her haunches, smiling.

“I’m nearly done here,” she said, wiping her forehead. “I’ll rest once I’ve finished.” Violet leaned over again and went back to scrubbing, and Judy frowned. She didn’t like the sound of that.

She straightened her back, placing her hand on Violet’s shoulder blade again. “You can finish this another time, Violet,” Judy urged, physically nudging the princess (and not at all ogling her fantastic back muscles). Violet gave no response, working diligently over a tricky spot in the wood. Judy rolled her eyes, murmuring a soft incantation to herself, watching with delight as the sponge in Violet’s grasp floated from her hands into the bucket of soapy water beside her. Violet looked up in surprise, eyes wide. Judy giggled; it reminded her of first meeting that little frog. “How about you take a break from this, hm?” Judy said, rising to her feet and collecting the bucket. “Lunch is just about ready.” Violet nodded, still looking quite bewildered, as Judy turned on her heel and trotted back to the kitchen to check the soup.

There was a beat of silence. Then, Violet said, “I didn’t know you could do that.” Judy chuckled.

“You’ve seen me do magic before,” she replied, stirring the soup. Violet hummed.

There was another beat. Judy peeked over her shoulder to see Violet lounging on the loveseat, watching her intently with a small smile. Judy blushed. She moved to the counter, chopping a few onions. Drumming her fingers on the counter, she was aware that now was the perfect time to start asking questions. Should she? Violet knew just about everything one could know about Judy. It was only fair. Oh, but still, was it right to - 

“I wanted to ask you something, Violet,” Judy said aloud, eyes still focused on the onions in her hands. Violet perked her head up, and she looked almost drowsy.

“Go ahead,” came her response, nonchalant and pliant. Judy sucked in a breath.

“How are you allowed to stay here?” She asked, pursing her lips. Violet raised an eyebrow. “You - you were missing for months, and war almost broke loose. You finally return you kingdom, and then you’re gone again?”

Violet scoffed hotly. “My father wouldn’t dare keep me confined. Not after…” She trailed off suddenly, and Judy gathered the idea that Violet’s life had not been what one dreamed a princess’ life to be like.

_ “Tell me?” _ She said softly, and she almost thought Violet hadn’t heard her. She cleared her throat, carrying a handful of diced onions to the pot of soup. “Or, would you - could you tell me about… _ you? _ Your life? Before…” She turned to Violet. The princess was reclined on the loveseat, feet outstretched over one of the arms and her head on the other, hands folded together on her stomach. She gazed up at the ceiling, and her eyes were a bit glassy. She looked so lovely, so _ regal, _ in her billowing shirt and trousers, that Judy’s breath caught in her throat for a moment. She made her way to Violet, settling herself on the floor by the loveseat, her chin resting on the cushion closest to Violet’s abdomen. The princess gazed down at her, smiling. Still, she said nothing. Judy poked her side gently, “Violet?”

“I lived…” Her lips were parted, and Judy watched as the gears behind her eyes whirled, searching for the words. “A privileged life, when my mother was in the picture.” Judy sighed. “She allowed me the life that not many of my status had. I was, in a sense, free. I read books, and played with the soldiers, and rode horses, and painted pictures. I wore what I liked, did what I liked, _ lived _ how I liked. And my mother never expected anything of me because, well…” Violet paused, eyes trained up once more. “Because I was a child. What did I have to give?” Judy felt the atmosphere shift. “My father was not the same, however,” mumbled Violet. Her eyes looked nearly resentful, “He had a reputation to maintain. Her was, he _ is _ king. He expected things of me that I was yet to understand. But... he couldn’t deny my mother; what she wanted, she had. It wasn’t until she-” Violet stopped, her voice breaking so quietly. Judy reached out, taking her hand. Violet glanced at her. “It wasn’t until she passed that my father began to demand more of me. I needed to be a proper princess for my kingdom. I needed to be better, be more than I really was.”

“Violet…” Judy murmured, and her thumb stroked Violet’s knuckles.

“It’s his fault,” Violet said. She squeezed Judy’s hand. “It’s - it’s _ his _ fault that I was -” She cut herself off, inhaling deeply, her eyes trained up. Judy sat up, grasping Violet’s hand properly, trying to the ground the woman. She reached out her other hand, until it met Violet’s cheek, cupping it and pulling Violet’s gaze toward her. Violet met her eyes, looking more vulnerable than Judy had ever seen.

“You don’t have to tell me, Violet,” Judy told her, and she meant it. But Violet leaned into her touch and sighed, shaking her head barely.

“I want to.” Judy nodded, shuffling closer to Violet. The woman squeezed her hand again, briefly closing her eyes. She opened them, and said, “My father wanted me to marry. He told me that there was a young, handsome prince who wanted to marry me, and I was to meet him. There was no debate, no room for discussion. He packaged me into a carriage and sent me down to their kingdom, without so much as a goodbye.” Judy wanted to curse that man, curse him to suffer. But she held herself together and nodded her head for Violet to continue. “The prince had been kind, if boring, and I certainly hadn’t wanted to marry him. Truthfully, he wasn’t very interested in marrying me. So I returned home, with no promise of marriage.” Violet gripped her hand intensely now. Judy leaned in further. “My father had been so angry at me for even daring to show my face. He told me he was ashamed, ashamed I would disgrace him in such a manner. I -” She swallowed, blinking as if to keep from crying. “I stormed away, and made plans to stay with my uncle, in your kingdom. Or, I was supposed to stay with my uncle. I - I never made it there.”

Judy whispered, stroking Violet’s cheek, “Violet, how about -”

“We were ambushed. By robbers or highwaymen or something of the sort, I don’t know!” Violet said suddenly, loudly. “The carriage was thrown from the path and it tipped. My coachman was - he - he was crushed under the weight. I was wounded, bleeding, my legs could barely move, I-” Violet’s hands shook so terribly, and Judy was doing everything in her power to keep Violet with her, steady her. “I stumbled through the forest for days, I - I don’t know how long. I was hardly alive. I thought I was going to die.” Judy could feel tears forming in her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, not now. Not when Violet needed her. But her heart ached. Gods, what she would have done to save this woman. “I remember leaning against a tree, thinking that would be where I died, and then I felt this… etching under my palm. And then I saw your house, and suddenly it was like there was a surge of energy within me.” Judy suddenly didn’t want to hear anymore. The tree, the etching. Was it -? “I tried to make my way to you, your home, but something was happening to me. It felt like my skin was - it was like my skin was being stripped from my body and my bones were being pulverized, like I was being mangled into something else.” Violet wasn’t looking at Judy anymore. “I was in agony in one moment, and then the next…” She inhaled. “I was in your garden, and you were crying because it was ruined.”

Judy’s lip quivered, and then she was throwing her arms around Violet, crushing her in an embrace. Violet held her in return, her face buried in Judy’s shoulder. She felt a droplet on her sleeve and pulled away to cup Violet’s cheeks. “Oh gods, Violet I -” she said, her voice weak. She sighed. “I am so sorry. There were etchings, left in this forest by witches before the great persecution. I had meant to dispel their magic, but no one dared to enter these woods, and I -” She hiccuped, and began to cry. 

“This isn’t your fault, Judy,” said Violet, shifting herself closer. “You took care of me. You _ helped _ me.”

Judy shook her head, tears pouring down her cheeks. “But I allowed this to happen. To you.”

Violet smiled, and she wiped Judy’s tears with her thumbs. “You couldn’t have known,” she said softly.

“Yes, but I could have prevented it!” Judy snapped, but the anger in her words was meant for herself. Violet simply shook her head, tsking softly.

“And stop me from ever meeting you?” Violet chuckled, holding Judy’s face. “I don’t think so.” And Judy felt it, then. A tug, in her chest, a pounding behind her rib cage, slowly crawling up her throat. Judy felt as if she were choking on her own heart. Never in her life had she felt like this. There was no name for it within her mind, no categorization or classification of any kind. But it was real, and powerful, and it was drawing her closer to Violet with every passing second. There was hardly any space between them, and Judy couldn’t fathom what was coming next. All she could understand was that she needed to be near Violet, be with her. Their foreheads touched, and Judy inhaled sharply. Violet’s nose brushed hers.

The hiss of boiling soup over the fire resounded in the silence. Judy tumbled backwards, away from Violet and onto her elbows. Her eyes snapped to what would have been their lunch, but it was bubbling over, steam rising from pot like an angry god. Judy scrambled onto her feet and scampered into the kitchen, panic rising in her chest as she struggled to lift the pot from the fire. The hot metal burned her fingers upon touching it, Judy gasped out. It hurt but she ignored the sting. Judy breathed in and muttered whatever spells she knew to cool the pot before anything worse happened. It wasn’t long before the fire was out and the soup was settling, and Judy could feel her legs giving out. She toppled into Violet’s arms, sighing in relief.

_ “Lunch… is… saved,” _ Judy murmured, a drained feeling washing over her. She could hear Violet’s chuckle, and her heart warmed as Violet carried her back to the loveseat.

“My hero,” said Violet, and Judy thought very distinctly, that she loved Violet’s smile.

__

“Violet?” Called Judy from the stairs, looking across her sitting room. The woman was nowhere to be seen, and Judy frowned as her hands found her hips. Violet hadn’t been with her in bed when Judy had woken, and the witch had become quite accustomed to waking in the strong, comforting arms of the princess. Alas, today she awoke to a cold bed and no Violet, a clear deviation from her normal morning! Judy was not one for unapproved adjustments in her routine. And as Violet was not in bed with her, that begged the question: where was she? Judy called again, “Violet?” And still no reply came. She rolled her eyes; some things never changed. Violet was the same now as she was when she was a frog. Judy resolved to check on her jewelry later. There was no telling with that princess. She shuffled to the kitchen, noting that her newly baked bread had been sliced and her jam had been opened. Judy sighed; Violet had been here. She had most likely woken up early and decided to get to work on whatever she hadn’t finished yesterday. She was so darn thoughtful. Judy sighed wistfully.

She prepared a cup of tea and her own bread with jam, carrying it to the kitchen table where her newest spellbook sat. She languidly nibbled her breakfast, sipping tea and leafing through her book with no clear goal. She didn’t like that she wasn’t eating with Violet. They had taken breakfast together yesterday, they had taken breakfast together ereyesterday, and all the weeks prior, and Judy had assumed they would take breakfast together, again, today. Irritated, she wondered what it was that Violet was doing that was more important that eating breakfast with her. Realistically, many things came to mind, but Judy was not feeling very rational at the moment. She just wanted to be eating breakfast with her… _Violet._ Was that so much to ask for? Judy tapped her foot on the ground. She was aware that she was being _ a tad _ bit dramatic. But she also knew that, while did Violet occasionally rise earlier than Judy, she preferred to stay in bed until Judy too was awake. Judy blushed; perhaps she was upset by the fact that Violet hadn’t wanted to stay in bed with her. Was she so terrible? Now Judy knew she was being melodramatic. She was comforted by the fact that Violet hadn’t left. Her shoes had been by the doorway and her share clothing had still been tossed over Judy’s dresser. Violet hadn’t gone, she was just _ busy. _

“If she wants to be busy, fine,” said Judy, to no one but herself. “I ambusy as well. I have potions to brew.” She rose from her chair, carrying her tea and her spellbook with her to her room that once was her bedroom. She cleared her work space, propping her book up and skimming to a page she had seen during breakfast. She gathered her materials, her finger trailing down the list of ingredients every time the name of one slipped her mind. She was set to to work soon after, mixing and measuring until everything was perfect. She bottled her creations carefully, cleaning her cauldron and finding another potion to begin. Goodness knows how long Judy worked, shut away in her old room. She was still fuming, but she was channeling that emotion in her worth ethic. She had been putting off her brewing for some time, preoccupied with household tasks and frogs and wars. None of that was here to distract her now, and Judy was in her element.

_ “Darn it!” _ She cursed, as her foot rammed into the wooden leg of her table. She bit her lip, pain shooting up her leg as she hobbled on her other foot for a moment. She heard the clatter of her book falling to the ground, and she rolled her eyes. Fantastic. She bent down under her table to retrieve the book, knocking her head against the wood as she did so. Judy sighed in total frustration. Maybe she need to sit down. She gripped her book and stood upright, moving herself to a chair across the room. Her foot ached, and Judy was half tempted to try one of her potions. She frowned, remembering they need at least two hours to settle before use. Great, just great.

“I’m fine,” Judy said to herself, breathing in deeply. She sighed, opening her spellbook. There were quite a few spells she had yet to learn from this edition, and now seemed like a fine time to look at them. She opened to the index of the book, her eyes raking over the possible spells. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but her eyes were caught by a spell simply titled _ Translation. _ Judy raised an eyebrow. Now that was odd. She had grown used to the fancy and convoluted titles of spells. It was expected that this point. Still, she was intrigued. She deftly flipped to the page number listed, finding it with ease. _ Translation, _ it said. _ The art of causing one object to become another through use of incantation or etching. _ Judy scoffed, but she continued reading. The practice seemed easy enough, although it did require quite a lot of magic. There were, in total, five pages dedicated to this technique, and Judy scoured each one. It wasn’t until the final page, and the final line that she realized what exactly this was.

_ All translations performed, through incantation or etching, on humans can only be undone by the kiss of true love. _

Judy stopped. Her heart was beating in her throat. It had clicked in her mind: she had kissed Violet, when she was a frog. And once she had kissed her, Violet then became human again. Surely Violet hadn’t been translated though. Judy returned to a previous page concerning human translation. She raked over the text, until she found something. _ Translation performed upon humans, regardless of the level of change invoked, results in excruciating pain during the translation. Those who have experienced such magic have claimed it to feel akin to that of several broken bones, or the peeling of skin. It is advised not to… _ Judy slammed the spellbook closed. Violet had been translated. The etching she had touch had been one designed to translate humans, possibly trespassers, into frogs. She had evoked the magic of the etching, which had caused her transformation into that little amphibian. And then Judy had kissed her. Her kiss had caused Violet to become human. Which meant, her kiss had reversed the spell; it was a kiss of true love. Judy was Violet’s true love.

“Violet!” She burst through her door, down the stairs and into the sitting room. She need to find Violet this instant. “Violet Newstead! Where on earth are you?!” She called, standing in the middle of her kitchen. She heard a swear from the backdoor, and she was racing to her garden within seconds. She flung the door open, finding Violet, covered in dirt, weeds in hand. She looked on in bewilderment. “Violet? What are you-”

“I was pulling the weeds from your garden,” said Violet. “You had complained about it yesterday.” Had she? Judy’s mind wasn’t capable of recalling anything at the moment. She felt so overwhelmed. Her knees buckled, and soon she was stumbling forward. She shut her eyes, expecting the fall to hurt, but she hadn’t fallen. Instead, she had been caught, her head landing snugly Violet’s chest. She peeked an eye open to see the woman, arms around her waist, preventing her from hitting in the dirty, weed-covered ground. “Is everything alright, Judy?”

Judy opened her mouth, and words spewed out like a waterfall. “This morning, you weren’t - when I woke - I was upset - I brewed potions, and the spellbook - _you were translated -_ you were a _frog_ and I - I _kissed you_ and that made you -”

“Woah, woah, Judy,” Violet hushed, helping the witch to stand upright. “You’re gonna spin yourself in circles. One thing at a time. Start with this morning.”

Judy nodded her head. One thing. She could do that. She could start with this morning. Easy, no problem... Judy suddenly shook her head. No, she couldn’t. She inhaled, no thought in her head, and dove forward, pressing her lips to Violet’s in a rush of movement, hands grasping at the fabric of her shirt. A surge of magic course through her then, lighting every inch of her skin on fire, and she couldn’t get enough. A noise of surprise escaped Violet, and Judy grew worried and began to pull herself away from the princess. But Violet’s hands cupped her cheeks and brought her closer, and Judy couldn’t help but melt. She felt so overwhelmed in a good way. Like all the ingredients had been added to her potion and it was finally ready. Judy tangled her fingers in Violet’s hair, needing her closer. Violet’s hands eventually slid down to her hips, and Judy sighed. It felt like a lifetime had passed, but her heart still ached when they broke apart. Gods, Judy had wanted that. She rested her forehead against Violet’s, panting softly against her lips.

“May I asked what I did to deserve that?” Asked Violet quietly, eyes closed as her breath hit Judy’s cheek. Judy chuckled, before it turned into a hearty laugh. She cupped Violet’s cheeks, her chest swelling.

“Yes, you may,” Judy whispered, smiling brightly. “But first, kiss me again?”

Violet grinned, her smile so brilliant, and Judy’s heart leapt when she said, “With pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave a kudos or comment if u enjoyed !
> 
> find me on tumblr @ bernly


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